Bed Bug Ninja. Get biting. Get swatted.

After months of insomnia on the daily, it has to be bed bugs. Um, no it’s not.

Well, why the heck can’t I sleep then….

Monsters under my bed? No. Gremlins playing in my water at the bedside table? Noooo. Spooky tree constantly tapping at my winder? Oh geez, no. Still mourning that breakup? uh…you may have gotten me there. Maybe...

Aha!

No.

So, it IS the bed bugs…

Okay, maybe it isn’t, but I have good news! A pegacorn landed in the backyard?! No. I finally got a good night’s sleep! Ah, boring, boo! I know! I couldn’t believe it either. Being the self-proclaimed Insomnia Queen, I would rather push through puffy eyes and feet dragging than try to sleep through a night of troublesome flopping around on my mattress. *flop *floppity-flop The thing is, it seems as though I am just so much more productive when I am not sleeping rather than if I am. I know, I know, you need your sleep… restorative, repairing, blah, blah, blah.

That’s all fine and good but all the brouhaha aside, when I try to sleep in -believe me, I have tried! – I find myself tossing and turning…. and most likely getting bit by something.

Maybe the wrinkle fairy. Maybe!

I wish it were bed bugs… or a wrinkle fairy; but, unfortunately, it’s just my lifelong sleep disorder. Yeah, self-diagnosed. No need for a medical professional when I have my handy dandy voices in the back of my head – which oddly sound much like my Mother – saying “Get Up and Get Moving, Sweetheart! Stop Your bellyaching! There’s a world out there to conquer!”

Yeah, it is more of like a shouting, than a ‘saying.’ Glad you noticed it too. And, you think my father’s voice in the back of my head would be different; but, alas, you’d be wrong. It goes something like this, “Man Up! We’re Slanina’s!” Yeah, I come from a tough brood. Which is why I WISH my sleeplessness WAS from bed bugs. That would be easier to blame. And yeah, I’m sure the -not one; but – two voices in the back of my head aren’t helping. Not even a little bit, girlie. Gotta love that… and neither are easy on me.

And so, yeah. I get my ass up and get moving.

Dammit. That guilt.

As for the breakup, I’m doing fine everybody, thank you for worrying about me! I’m moving along and doing me… and for my bestie who reminds me to get under a new one to get over the old one?

Nah, you know that’s not my style. No men. (for now, anyway…)

I need space. None that include d***. Ahem, foul language, I meant a gentleman caller, yes.